“Well?” he said. “Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Yes, but we’d better hurry.”
“Why?”
She cracked a smile. “Because if we don’t, I might change my mind about going with you at all.”
As they stepped from her room, Dr. Green and Chappie were surprised to discover Congresswoman Lemay standing in the hallway. She seemed startled but quickly regained her composure.
“There you are,” she said, looking to Dr. Green. Her eyes drifted down to the suitcase in her hand. “Going on a trip?”
“Just getting a few things together for tomorrow. You should be packing too.”
“Of course. And I see General Reed was kind enough to help you pack,” Lemay said with a squint of her eyes.
“I’d be happy to help you pack your brooms and hats if you think it’d help.”
“Funny,” she said with a sneer. “Well, I’ll be off then.” She turned to leave.
“Wait,” said Dr. Green. “What was it you wanted to see me about?”
“Uh, it’s not important. We can talk about it tomorrow morning.” She started to back away. “I’ll see you later then.”
It took Chappie but a split-second to make his decision, and once made, it was not one that could be taken back.
He drew his Sig Sauer P226 and pointed it at her.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re coming with us.”
Dr. Green stepped away from him, shock covering her face.
“Have you gone mad? She’s a congresswoman for God’s sake.”
“I suspect she’s more than that.” He waved Lemay closer. “This way, dear. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”
Lemay inched closer, her eyes and mouth both opened wide.
“What do you mean she’s more than that?’” asked Green.
“I think she’s working for Pike.”
“What!”
“You’re making a huge mistake,” said Lemay. Her voice was shaking, and she seemed unable to look away from the pistol. “One that I can assure you will land you in a jail cell.”
“Perhaps. But right now, I’m more worried about staying alive.”
Green touched his shoulder. “General, are you sure about this?”
“Fairly sure.”
“Fairly sure? Are you kidding me?”
He looked over at her and winked.
“What I do know is that she’s bad news. Let’s take her along as a little insurance. Once she sees what we see, perhaps we’ll have another ally.” He turned back to Lemay. “Now move, Broomhilda. We have a flight to catch.”
Chapter 12
After parting ways with Dr. Jarvis, Tanner and Samantha continued their journey east along M Street, arriving at a large traffic circle. A bronze statue of a Civil War general riding atop his horse sat at its center. To their left was a huge neoclassical church topped with a turquoise blue steeple. Above its six ornate columns were the words “National City Christian Church.” The steeple of a competing church towered in the distance, its beautiful red sandstone contrasting with the dull gray concrete of the city.
Without saying a word, Tanner turned right and started toward Massachusetts Avenue.
“How do you know it’s this way?” Samantha said, hurrying to catch up.
“Spidey sense.”
She rolled her eyes but said nothing more. While she often kidded him about getting lost, in truth, his sense of direction had proven to be pretty darned good. The same could not be said, however, about his driving skills.
Making their way through the sea of abandoned cars, they continued past huge glass buildings, hotels, and government offices lining both sides of the street.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she said.
“What’s amazing?”
“That people could build all this.”
He glanced around. “I guess.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I think mankind was so busy building and expanding that we forgot how to live on this beautiful planet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He stopped. “Look around you. What do you see?”
She slowly turned in place.
“Buildings. Lots and lots of cars. A big parking lot. And there’s a crane over there for some construction work that was underway.”
“My point exactly,” he said, continuing on. “Noise. Pollution. Lifeless chunks of rock and steel. People being packed ever and ever tighter in a world without life. That can’t be mankind’s purpose on this earth.”
She mulled that over. “You think we have a purpose?”
“I think each person has a reason for being here. Don’t you?”
“I guess,” she said, not sounding convinced. “What’s yours?”
“To care for you, of course,” he said without missing a beat.
She studied his face for a smile. There wasn’t one.
“Okay. What do you think mine is?”
“That’s for you to answer.”
“But how do I do that?”
“You have to listen to that inner voice we talked about.”
She fell silent, as if hoping to hear a magical whisper from deep within.
“I think there’s something in there, but it’s so hard to hear.”
He smiled. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
“Look!” she said, pointing at a huge white building as it came into view. “That’s it, right?”
Tanner nodded. “That’s it.”
The front of Union Station resembled something from the days of Constantine, with its beautiful granite arches and ionic columns topped with statues of Prometheus, Apollo, Archimedes, and other mythical gods. Three flag poles stood out front, along with a semicircular double-basin fountain adorned with a fifteen-foot stone sculpture of Christopher Columbus. There were several double-decker tour buses outside, as well as an amphibious Duck bus, a strange vehicle that was half-boat and half-car. What was more concerning, however, was the tan-colored HMMWV parked with one of its wheels propped up on the curb.
Tanner and Samantha headed straight for the main entrance. A total of nine mahogany doors sat nested under colossal arches designed to pass the double-decker buses. Four of the doors remained closed, but the rest had been pulled from their hinges.
“You ever been in here?” he asked.
“No. Why?”
“It’s beautiful. I think you’re going to like it.”
Tanner kicked aside a garbage can blocking one of the doorways and stepped inside. The main hall was truly awe inspiring. It measured a hundred and twenty feet on a side and featured a ninety-six-foot barrel-vaulted ceiling modeled after the ancient Roman Baths of Diocletian. Along the top ledge sat thirty-six nude Roman legionnaires cast in plaster, each with a protective shield strategically placed to hide their genitalia.
Even more astonishing, however, were the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bodies neatly aligned in long rows, each covered by a simple white cloth. They stretched the entire floor, carefully laid out like bleached white domino tiles. A narrow walkway had been left between the cadavers, but at a few points, it too had been blocked.
Samantha groaned. “Oh yeah, this is really lovely.”
“They’re just bodies,” he said, hoping to keep the zombie talk to a minimum.
“I know what they are, but that makes this the world’s most ginormous graveyard.”
“More like a morgue.”
“Question,” she said, raising her hand like she was class. “Why are they here?”
He shrugged. “The authorities must have shipped the bodies through Union Station on their way to some kind of final disposition center.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Likely nothing more than a burn box or a pit in the middle of Montana.”
She made a face. “Then why didn’t they send them on?”
“Probably couldn’t keep up. A lot of people died all at once.”
“So these po
or people are going to be stuck here forever and ever.” She shook her head. “That’s awful.”
“Look on the bright side.”
“There’s a bright side?”
“Sure,” he said, holding his arms out wide. “At least they have company.”
“You’re troubled. Really, I mean it.”
Tanner chuckled and stepped over to the nearest cadaver, gently pulling aside the sheet. Samantha inched up behind him, peeking over his shoulder. Unlike most body bags, which are black for obvious reasons, this one was transparent. The occupant inside had become little more than a puddle of red and brown slime, his skull bobbing in the mix like a potato in a bowl of vegetable soup.
Samantha immediately looked away. “Yuck.”
Tanner rubbed his fingers across the bag, tracing the outline of one of the eye sockets.
“It’s what we are, darlin’. This poor soul might have been a famous rock star or a gorgeous Parisian model. In the end, we all turn to goo.”
She used her foot to slide the sheet back over the corpse.
“Maybe, but it’s not doing anything for my appetite.”
“You hungry?”
“I was until you showed me The Incredible Melting Man.”
“Or woman.”
“Whatever. Can we go?”
Tanner stood up and studied the station. It consisted of three levels. The one on which they had entered contained a few sit-down restaurants, Amtrak’s ticket counter, and a dozen gates leading out to the MARC and VRE passenger lines. From what he could see of the upper level, it housed an assortment of clothing stores, as well as a pizzeria. He couldn’t yet see the lower level.
“Let’s take a quick walk around to see what’s what,” he said, following the narrow pathway through the sea of white sheets.
As they proceeded further into the station, they saw that the stores and restaurants had been thoroughly looted, their floors now strewn with clothing, food wrappers, boxes of chocolate, the occasional shoe, and even money. Thankfully, there were no signs of anyone actually living in the station.
Samantha reached down and picked up a twenty-dollar bill. There was something brown and smelly on the back of it, and she quickly tossed it away.
“Gross,” she said, wiping her hands on her pants.
Tanner grinned but said nothing. It was not the first time they had seen cash used as a colorful replacement for toilet paper. Apparently, the lure of wiping one’s backside on a famous president’s face was simply too overpowering for some to resist.
They continued ahead, arriving at the center of the station where they discovered a bank of escalators and stairs going in both directions.
“We go down, right?” she said, eying the escalator.
“Makes sense. If what the soldiers told us is true, the entrance to the tunnels must be on the lowest level.”
Samantha stepped onto the inert escalator, changed her mind, and quickly stepped back off.
“It’s not going to turn on,” he said.
“Still, no reason to chance it.” She walked over to the stairs and looked down. “I don’t see any sheets down there. Just restaurants.”
Tanner started down the stairs. “Good. Maybe we can find something to eat.”
“I don’t see how you could be hungry. You ate nearly an entire goose.”
“Yeah, but only one.”
She snickered. “I suppose you’re used to eating an entire gaggle.”
“You making up words again?”
“You’ve never heard of a gaggle of geese?”
“I’ve heard of a gaggle of girls. Is that the same thing?”
“A gaggle of girls?”
“Yep, that’s what I thought,” he said, pulling the same joke she had done on him a hundred times before.
She didn’t seem to get it.
“In science class, we learned the names of all kinds of animal groups. Do you know what a group of sharks is called?”
“Bad news?”
“A shiver.” She waited for a reaction.
He only shrugged.
She seemed a little disappointed by his muted response.
“What about worms?” she said.
“Don’t know.”
“A squirm. Get it?” she said, giggling. “A squirm of worms.”
Tanner shook his head, fairly certain that she was making the whole thing up. Even if that was the case, it didn’t really matter. The world’s reset button had been pressed, and survivors of the great Superpox-99 pandemic had been given a chance to rename anything they wanted.
“Ooh, ooh,” she added, “you’re going to love this one. Guess what a group of crows is called?”
But Tanner was no longer listening. He had reached the bottom of the stairs and was staring out at a giant food court. What had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end was not the chaos of overturned dining tables, metal chairs, and endless fast food wrappers. It was the two men standing on the adjacent Metro line platform.
Tanner squatted down and turned to Samantha, putting a finger to his lips. She quickly knelt beside him, her eyes locking onto the men. Both were soldiers, and both had rifles slung across their backs. They were about fifty yards away, standing with their backs turned while studying the wall of the Metro tunnel.
“What are they doing?” she whispered.
“Don’t know.”
One of the soldiers turned slightly, and they could see that he was holding a small spool of electrical wire. He backed onto the landing, carefully stretching the wire out. Surprisingly, he didn’t attach it to an initiator. Instead, he wrapped it around the leg of a chair and proceeded with the other man down the Metro tunnel. Within seconds, they had disappeared from sight.
“They’re planning to blow up the tunnel,” she said.
“Not if I can help it.”
Tanner stood up and began maneuvering his way through the food court. There was so much debris littering the floor that it was impossible to go much faster than a shuffle without tripping. Even so, he leaped over garbage cans and ducked between overturned tables as fast as his frame allowed. Samantha followed behind, marveling at his agility. Big or not, Tanner Raines could move.
They reached the mouth of the Metro tunnel and discovered that the soldiers had rigged three charges, all daisy-chained together using blasting caps and electrical wire. Each block of C4 was roughly the size and shape of a few bars of soap placed end to end. Two of the charges had been stuck to opposing walls, and the last one was on the ceiling overhead.
“How do we keep them from exploding?” said Samantha.
Before Tanner could answer, a loud boom sounded from further down the tunnel. A cloud of dust puffed out to lightly coat their hair and clothes.
“We’re too late!” she exclaimed.
Footsteps sounded from the tunnel, and Tanner waved her back.
“Quick, find cover.”
The only things close enough to hide behind were two garbage bins spaced about twenty feet apart. Tanner ducked behind the closest one, and Samantha hurried behind the one further up the platform.
It didn’t take long for the soldiers to reappear.
“Sergeant Merkel, I swear to God, you couldn’t blow up a straw hut if you had fifty sticks of dynamite and a barrel of nitroglycerine.”
“It’s not my fault, Cap’n. It’s these damned tunnel walls. They must be reinforced with rebar. I’ll add a few more charges and seal this baby tighter than granny’s pucker hole.”
The captain shook his head. “Just get it right this time.”
Tanner stepped out from behind the garbage can and raced toward them with his shotgun raised.
“Hands!” he shouted. “Let me see ‘em!”
Both men instinctively reached for their rifles, but upon seeing the open end of the twelve-gauge, quickly changed their minds.
“Easy, friend,” the sergeant said, slowly raising his hands. “No need for violence.”
Tanner closed to within
a few paces and read the names on their uniforms, Merkel and Prince.
“Believe me, you don’t want to do this,” said Captain Prince. “If you hurt us, there’ll be a platoon of soldiers down here within the hour.”
“A platoon you say?”
Prince didn’t bother trying to sell it. There was really no coming back from a piss-poor bluff.
“One at a time, slip the rifles over your head and toss them away.” Tanner leveled the shotgun at Merkel. “You first, Sergeant.”
Merkel lifted the M4 over his head and lobbed it down the tunnel.
Tanner shifted the shotgun toward Prince.
“Now you, Captain.”
“You’re making a mistake. We’re trying to seal this tunnel to keep the infected from getting out.”
“No, we understand,” Samantha said, stepping out from behind the other trash can. “Unfortunately, we need to go down there.”
Both soldiers seemed surprised, perhaps because a twelve-year-old girl had suddenly appeared, or maybe it was because she was holding a rifle on them.
Prince turned to Tanner. “If you go down there, they’ll kill you.” He looked back at Samantha. “Her too.”
“The rifle,” Tanner repeated, watching the man’s hands.
Captain Prince slowly lifted the rifle over his head.
“You want it? Here!” He shoved the weapon toward Tanner with both hands.
Tanner saw the weapon flying toward him, but there was little he could do to get out of its way. He had a choice to make and only an instant in which to make it. Should he pull the trigger, or did he let the situation potentially get away from him? The men certainly had not brought malice to him. If anything, it was the other way around. The confrontation was arguably done out of necessity, but that didn’t make it any easier to justify killing or crippling them. In the end, he chose to do nothing.
The weapon bounced off his chest, and both soldiers charged as he knew they would.
“Tanner!” shouted Samantha, swinging up her rifle. Even if she had wanted to shoot, it would have been impossible. He was directly in her line of fire.
Tanner dropped the shotgun behind him.
“Stay back, Sam. I’ve got this.”
At a buck seventy a piece, Prince and Merkel weren’t particularly big men, but they weren’t featherweights either. If it came down to a contest of mass, Tanner was going to lose. The biggest mistake anyone made when fighting two men was to worry about both men at the same time. In Tanner’s experience, it was better to focus on the biggest or meanest sonofabitch first. Once that one went down, attention could then shift to the next, and so on. The logic behind it wasn’t foolproof, of course. The weaker man could always end the fight with a baseball bat to the back of the head. But more often than not, the timid fighter took longer to do something really nasty.
Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7) Page 13
